


miles to go before we sleep

by addictedtoacertainlifestyle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Devoted Reylo, Domestic Fluff, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Interplanetary Travel, Love Confessions, Sentimentality and Nostalgia, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, mentions of exegol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedtoacertainlifestyle/pseuds/addictedtoacertainlifestyle
Summary: Ben takes Rey’s hand and together they stand in silence, lost in thoughts both old and new, musings from the remains in front of them, ideas for tomorrow and memories of yesterday. Neither of them say a word, but every emotion is tangibly shared through the bond, better described through these ethereal ways only they can understand.--A collection of moments between Rey and Ben, from the first night in the Falcon after Exegol to their own home.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 68





	miles to go before we sleep

The Falcon’s bunk bed is cold. Not unlike the quiet space that surrounds it, the heavy distance between each burning star. It’s haunting, the impersonal cold that lurks outside the ship as it floats in the deep darkness, without a greeting, only looking on. 

Rey’s got a star of her own right beside her. A magnificent miracle. Ben radiates heat like a dying sun, sleeps without much sound, so silent and still that she has to check on him through the bond constantly so she can be sure he hasn’t suddenly passed away. She knows she’d feel it, but… 

She can’t sleep. Her nerves buzz with a nauseating mix of fear and delight. The waking feels like a dream itself, a dream which she fears she’ll wake up from at any moment. But there are things here that wouldn’t follow her into a dream so sharply; the ghost of adrenaline still lingers, the persistent smell of ozone in her fingertips. There’s pain, there’s relief. Acute, too delicate to not be real.

She keeps track of Ben’s breathing, watching in the dark as his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. Her most beloved comfort in this moment, where everything else feels still so uncertain. He grounds her, simple as that. It’s almost as if he pulls her towards him, lures her into his orbit without her having a choice in it.

Not that she’d want anything different.

Rey shuffles just a little bit closer, not daring to touch him and disturb his sleep, but just to observe his features. He is beautiful in her eyes, always has been. But there’s been a change; over the course of this year his face has softened, his whole being has become lighter. So far away from the frightened, broken man she first saw all that time ago. Now there’s life in him, trembling and unsure, still learning its way — but it’s burning bright.

His scar is gone now. She healed it on the Death Star’s graveyard, in the raging waves, right after plunging her lightsaber into him like some kind of monster. The moment brings a shiver of shame up her body, a pang of disgust — it pains her to her core to think that she hurt him so. He said he’s forgiven her already, but the thought disturbs her all the same.  


Now, his face is shadowed by the night, new cuts and bruises on his cheek that will heal with time. Those marks tell the story of his survival, and nothing makes her happier. She smiles into the darkness.

Time passes, or it stops completely in its tracks.

Rey doesn’t know. She’s content to just look at him, protect his quiet sleep.

Eventually Ben stirs, blinks at her, in a state between waking and slumber. They look at each other in silence for a while. 

Craving to touch him but not sure how, she only moves even closer until her forehead touches his chest. This close she can hear his breathing, take in his scent. Already becoming so familiar to her, intertwining with these parts of her she didn’t know existed before. Not in this manner. 

And to think she could’ve lost this, lost him...

It hits her without warning; the wave of emotion that rises from her chest. Upwards and out like a high tide, her connection to him heightens in the Force and for a moment there’s a sharp pain. An echo of loss, reverberating from somewhere so far away, as if from another plane of being. 

Both of them gasp silently. It disappears as fast as it came to be, leaving no sign of it in the Force. But they remember.

“Rey…” he whispers a note of worry into her hair. He felt it too; the plunge into the deep end. The phantom idea of something dreadful neither of them could ever dare to speak aloud.

Ben sets a hesitant hand on the back of her neck — without care she grips his shirt. As close as they can be. As close as they dare to be.

-

It’s no surprise Ben despises the Resistance, even still.

Nearly everyone is wary of him. Chewie’s presence after a time so long feels odd, deeply familiar but still strange and uneasy, even if he seems to have forgiven Ben. Rose, the infamous newly promoted general and a dear friend of Rey’s, has been nothing but kind and curious, a small gesture which he appreciates deeply. Others are terrified or indignant, barely daring to spare a glance at his way. Even though they have Rey’s word — and his — they don’t like having him around. He can’t exactly blame them, but… It stings, nevertheless. It feeds on the thought that still sometimes rears its head, deep within.

Rey doesn’t care about any of it. She walks everywhere with him. Sits with him whenever she can, reaches out her hand and intertwines it with his. Helps him clean his healing wounds in the medbay. Most of their afternoons are spent sparring, together finding their footing, and surprisingly, Ben truly enjoys the experience in a way he hasn’t before; there are no high stakes, no burning sabers or death at hand, just her feral growls and agile movements as his opponents. Her fierce smirk and flushed cheeks at the end of each session light him up, leave him delightfully breathless. She’s a true marvel to watch.  


She insists on sleeping in the same bunk as him, no matter how small it is, how bare and cold. Now that they’re becoming more familiar with touching one another, she makes sure to hug him as close as she can, run her hands through his hair and hum in contentment when they kiss, with such tender roughness in her touches — a contradiction that only she can possess. 

He’s never felt so fully taken and accepted by someone. Rey gives him strength and courage, helps him find and nurture those reservoirs of patience and kindness in him, things he thought he’d never deserve to have. 

Neither of them are very good with words just yet. Half a lifetime of cruelty, loneliness and stolen thoughts can do that — both of them are keenly aware of it. But they’re getting there. And really, it doesn’t matter that much to Ben; he knows what he feels for her, knows she feels just the same. How her whole being in the Force lights up when he enters the room. How she radiates that warmth he so easily recognises, something so right and real he cannot explain, only feel it in his bones, silently calling for her. How she stands up for him if someone as much as spares him a bad look — she isn’t ashamed to let everyone know she’s on his side. It’s more than anyone has done for him in years, a true blessing. 

The nights are what he looks forward to every day — when he has her completely to himself. He never wants to sleep, only hold her, kiss her, look over her and watch her slumber, even if she does chastise him for it. He knows she cares for him and wants him to rest as well, but to Ben, every minute sleeping is a minute wasted. He’s survived with less hours. 

He hasn’t dared to say it out loud, but… the image of her, lifeless in the cathedral of the dark, it haunts him. 

Once he wakes up during the night and she’s gone to the fresher, leaving him alone. A lump of dread and panic rushes to fill up his throat as old memories resurface. Her dead body slumped in his arms; her glassy, unseeing eyes looking into nothing; the moment where he thought it wasn’t enough, when he thought he’d lost her forever, when—

Rey returns to find him trembling, lost in the memory. With wild eyes and heaving breath that breaks into a relieved sob once he sees her. He wraps his arms around her body and he presses his face to her stomach, clutching with desperation. Making sure she’s real. 

”I’m here,” she says, shaken by everything she feels through the bond but determined to reassure him, caressing his hair to ground him back into reality. ”I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even when he doubts, when he is clouded by the haunting; there’s nothing clearer than her, nothing brighter. 

She’s almost too much for him to comprehend. And he can’t get enough of her.

-

Tatooine is like meeting an old ghost.

Coming here was something they decided on together. They had ties to Luke, both in their own way, whether or not they liked it. They wanted to see the place where his story began, even though they were certain he would’ve scoffed at such an idea. Still, it also provided an understandable getaway from the Resistance — something they’d both been wanting.

As soon Ben lands the Falcon on the desert and they step out into the fading evening, they both sense it in the Force. The ghost feels familiar, like a dream you can’t really remember, a whisper somewhere near, but everything else around them is new, unknown.

Rey takes a deep breath and looks upon the two setting suns. An old feeling rises in her, something akin to nostalgia, looking over the stardunes into the horizon. This is no Jakku, but… the death, the decay and the little scraps of life are very similar here. She knows that the good things here are rare and hide from your watchful eyes. 

She didn’t expect to feel like this. To find these strange moments of painstakingly recognisable intimacy — it humbles but also frightens her. 

Ben comes to stand beside her, stirring her from her memories. It’s time. 

The homestead’s remains aren’t too difficult to find; they listen to the hollow wind and follow the whispers, past the dunes. A sandstorm after another, years of no life, in this barren land. The little buildings are mostly covered in sand, but they can be seen and recognised. They stand on the edge of the dune, looking on to what was once there, in full bloom and bustle. 

It looks and feels like a burial site.

Ben takes Rey’s hand and together they stand in silence, lost in thoughts both old and new, musings from the remains in front of them, ideas for tomorrow and memories of yesterday. Neither of them say a word, but every emotion is tangibly shared through the bond, better described through these ethereal ways only they can understand.

After some time, they awake from their trance, feeling a new presence nearby. 

An old woman approaches. Ancient life in her statue, in her slow walk. A pack animal Rey doesn’t recognise, a tall, beige beast follows the woman — equally defeated, scorched under the suns. Both of them resigned to their fates, yes, but also content with it. Rey can’t fathom how she’s lived for so long, what she’s faced in this desert.

_ That could’ve been you _ , her mind whispers. _ If you had even lasted that long. _ It brings up a feeling of sick envy.

“There hasn’t been anyone here in so long…” comes the woman’s voice, small and strained. Howling wind on the dead dunes. “Who are you?”

Rey swallows her unease and speaks: “I’m Rey. This is Ben.”

The woman looks at them, for a time too long. Like staring upon a mirage.

“Take care of yourselves. Not everyone is as lucky,” she finally says. 

They don’t have a choice but to watch as she leaves, the woman and her caravan, off into the open. Disappearing somewhere along the way. 

“Are desert dwellers always so dramatic?” Ben asks, when he’s certain the woman can’t hear them anymore.

All Rey can do is burst into laughter. He chuckles too, spares her a smile that just about rivals any sunset with its warmth. It lightens the strange air between them, brings a breeze of comfort and mirth. 

Luke isn’t here like they thought at first, no. The ghost that called them here is a memory, an idea. A reminder. 

-

The estate of Varykino on Naboo is great old opulence decaying, slowly withering away.

Nobody’s been at the estate for years now. Ben and Rey walk through the halls of the massive mansion, peek into the eerily empty rooms where everything is left neat and nice. Beds are made, little decorations and vases bursting with wilted flowers left around, a layer of dust covering everything. Life has disappeared in a rush, in just one day, leaving behind a shell so beautiful and devoid. 

Rey feels like she shouldn’t be here. There’s something fundamentally wrong, uncanny about finding a place this high-end and elegant, cast out and abandoned. But there’s a certain kind of curiosity, a feeling of awe, she can sense it from Ben as they go. She knows he must be intrigued, maybe even feeling a pull into the world shown around him, recognising something in it. The blood of royalty flows in him still. 

But in the end, this isn’t their home. Only a passing shelter, a view into a time long gone. 

They emerge from the shadowed mansion into the garden where sunlight nearly blinds them. Here, life is different. It’s in the flowerbeds that bloom with pride, in the vines twisting their way through the crumbling duracrete. In the nests some birds have made into the small trees, untouched and safe. An old pond nearly indistinguishable, a dark green growth across the surface of the water. Everything grows wild and imperfect. Much more to Rey’s liking.

They weave through the garden, through the wilted things past a small, nearly crumbled archway. In between the splintered pillars they find a place to sit down. Looking over the lake Rey can’t quite comprehend; the beauty of it is so much to take in. 

Ben is bursting with thoughts; he’s so loud even before he starts to speak.

”Mother, she… I remember her telling me these tales of splendour, stories of Padme and her life here. I don’t think I really understood what it all meant. This is…”

He’s silent for some time, looking somewhere into the distance wistfully, and Rey knows he hasn’t found the words to continue. A place that’s always felt so far away but still so close to your heart at once — it overwhelms you.

”I only thought of Anakin and his legacy as Vader, how I was meant to follow him. Never her or this place.”

”I think it’s easier to do. Taking on the burden than accepting the glory,” she muses.

She never did it, but… She still thinks about the vision she saw on the ruins of Death Star, the things that would’ve taken place had she followed the path into the Dark like her grandfather wanted her to. Making that decision was never a tangible choice. Even if she came close to it. Because while she now knows where she comes from, it doesn’t feel real to her. To her, she’s still that orphan left out on Jakku, faceless drunks for parents, unknown lineage, and nothing to compare herself to. 

”But you didn’t,” he points out. ”You’re too strong to give in.”

”Maybe. But you’re strong too. Turning back into Light? Not everyone can do that.”

”I did it because of you,” Ben admits, meets her gaze head on when she turns to look at him with wonder. ”When you told me I wasn’t alone, when you said you were going to help me because you saw me turn in the vision, I… Before that I thought my path had been chosen. You made me see it differently.”

Overcome with pride, with a great rush of love Rey reaches out to gather his huge hands in hers, barely succeeding. They both glance down at her attempt and share a silent laugh. An undercurrent of electricity runs through them, a gentle, invisible tether connecting them. 

”I told you those things because I saw the good in you, I knew you wanted to change. You just needed someone to believe in you,” she says, squeezing their joined hands. Ben nods, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips, making her falter in her words. ”And... I don’t think we need to be Dark or Light, anyways. I— I think I like how we are now.”

”As long as I’m with you… I know I’m on the right path.”

A simple truth, said with utmost certainty. Almost like a vow. 

It calls words of her own, the ones she’s held close to her heart for a while now. He deserves to hear them, she knows.

”I love you.” It’s so easy to say, so light, and she can’t help herself from smiling. ”I should’ve said it so, so much earlier, but it’s not enough to explain how I feel about you.”

_ You’ve always been my home, even before I understood it. You bring me peace. I’m not afraid when I’m with you. I’d live my life all over again if it meant I’d see you at the end of it. I’m the luckiest person in the whole galaxy to have you. I want to be by your side, always. _

”It’s okay, I knew. I love you too.”

_ You believed in me when nobody else did. You saw me for who I was and decided to love me anyways. You’re the light I tried to run away from. Loving you is the greatest honour I’ll ever possess, and my greatest pride. As long as you want me, I’m yours. _

He catches her into his embrace with ease. The galaxy around them moves on like nothing happened, but the axis of their world has shifted. 

-

Their own home is perched on a green hill, looking over a deep valley that flows over and around the planet, with the steadfast earth beneath its edges. Sharp mountain peaks capped with snow colour the horizon and a lazy, off-blue river runs through the scenery into somewhere far away. 

They built their home themselves; over time their hard handiwork yielded way to a small but comfortable cabin. It was a learning curve, to be sure, but Rey’s penchant for tinkering and building paired with Ben’s nuanced ideas and their shared stubborn determination to finish what they’d started made sure they worked hard. Now, they have a roof over their heads, a real, warm bed to sleep in, a small hearth to huddle around each evening — a place for them and them alone. 

Rey loves nothing more in the morning than sit on the porch and watch the day come alive, the sun rising from between the mountains, filling up the whole valley with ethereal light she hasn’t seen anywhere else. With Ben still sleeping soundly inside, she is soothed by the beauty of her home and her peaceful love close by. 

It’s all she could’ve ever wanted but never dared to hope for. A quiet corner of a planet in a quiet corner of the galaxy that heals in leaps and bounds. 

Almost too good to be true.

”Sometimes,” she once absentmindedly admits, when the spring rain pellets the bedroom window and the morning has barely begun, ”I think it’s all been a dream and I’m going to wake up back in the Resistance all alone. Or even on Jakku.”

She spares a look back at Ben who’s still half-hidden by the blankets, but intently listening. She knows she’d do it all again in a heartbeat, but the idea of losing this — losing her home, and having to find it again, fight for it with her life — it’s a powerful paralyzer, taking hold of her when the fear becomes a reality for a moment. 

There is a quiet second, but it’s full of sound. Ben sits up to follow her, thinking. 

”Well, if this was a dream…” he eventually starts, reaches out to take her hand in his, interlocking their hands. ”Could we do this?”

Rey smiles at him, basks in this playful side of him that she’s seen bloom over the time of being together. It’s hard to remember why she still worries when Ben is so certain, so real and honest about it in a way he wasn’t before. Sometimes, she looks at him and sees the grin Han used to have, the kind eyes Leia carried. And she adores that — how he’s completely himself now, even with the old ghosts and fears and nightmares. When he’s like this, he glows. 

”And what about this?”

His other hand curves on her cheek, her chin on his palm. A prelude to a kiss, his lips meeting hers just briefly. Instinctually she leans forward and their foreheads touch. 

“I know this can’t be a dream. My dreams are never this good,” he murmurs, soft static in his voice. 

She sighs and leans into the moment, finds the warmth that always shines from his side of the bond and just… falls into him. The Force sings right where they meet and merge, fading those lines a bit more each day, waiting for the day in the far-off horizon where they can’t tell each other apart anymore, when they’ve lived a life so long, so worthwhile, that nothing else will be needed but a look and a silent promise to never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again with another tros fix-it. over the course of this hellish year this story has basically become my own comfort canon in my head and i thought i'd share it with y'all. i still love these two with all my heart, they're a delight and a great source of inspiration to write about and you bet i won't be stopping. (*´▽｀*)
> 
> this was originally meant to be a fic about each place they sleep in before finding their own home (thus the name, i could've changed it to fit this particular plot better but i'm attached to it by now), but it kind of got away from me and instead i wanted them to explore these places that have some kind of significance to them. if the tatooine one seems a bit weird, its because i initially planned to include the lightsaber burial but... i recently realised it was just one of the many dumb things of tros that aren't Actually Reasonable and take place in the story just because. i still wanted them to visit the planet (and fix that terrible reysky garbage), so i just tweaked it a bit. 
> 
> anyways, enough rambling. happy holidays from me, i hope you enjoy this fic! may 2021 be fruitful and give us plenty of inspiration and love :)
> 
> (ps. everyone knows comments & kudos fuel us writers, so scream about these two in the comments and i will love you forever)


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